Trust
by TheViewFromTheAfternoon
Summary: As the youngest in her family Angela's got a whole lot of reputation to live up to. Usually she enjoys the challenge, but when things go badly wrong there's only ever one person she trusts to make things right. (Two-shot)
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Well, here's the first part of what's turned out to be a two-shot that I've had rattling round in my head for a little while now about one way I imagined their sibling relationship and how these events went down. It's a completely stand alone story, even though it's vaguely set in the same universe as my other stories.

The Shepards and anything else you recognise belong to the talented SE Hinton, the rest is my own.

* * *

_Seven weeks and five days._

It's the last hour of school on a Friday afternoon and I'm sitting in the back of the class in English Literature. I got my book open on the desk in front of me, except I doubt I'm even on the right page, 'cause I ain't been listening to a word the teacher is saying, but it should be alright - she don't usually bother asking me questions no more since I never know the answers anyway and she's probably sick of my smart mouth comments.

_Might as well just say two months._

There's really only two reasons why I ever come to school - to see the girls and to keep Tim off my case. For some reason my brother's real insistent on me and Curly sticking with school and graduating, says it'll make a difference. But honestly I don't see why it's a big deal so most the time I don't even try.

_Or maybe eight weeks, that don't sound quite so long as two months._

So me not listening in class ain't exactly anything unusual either, normally it's because I'm thinking about the good stuff like where I'm going after school and what I'm gonna wear and who's gonna be there. Or else I'm writing notes to pass to Jenny or Marie. Only that ain't the reason today, and I don't even bother to unfold the papers that have been passed back to me from them.

_Hell, who am I kidding? Seven weeks and five days means I got to do something for sure._

Today I've been counting out the days. Again. I know it's more than a month, even though I've been trying to kid myself all day, all week really, that it ain't been that long. Only when I really think about it, I know it has to be nearly eight weeks because the last time was right before that weekend when we snuck in the drive in, one whole week before that house party, and I'm sure that party was in the second week of September because I ain't gonna forget _that_ night.

Stupid thing is though that now I'm certain it's been that long I don't have the first idea what I should do about it.

I've thought about talking to one of the girls. Except I can't decide which one I could tell and somehow I'm not sure if I can trust either of them not to say anything to anyone, or even care what happens to me, and I'm pretty sure if things were different and one of them was in my position then I'd just be calling her out for being such a damn fool. They'll probably just laugh in my face and tell me it's my own fault, and I know that they'd probably be right, only it ain't just my fault, even though that's what Ryan tried to make me think the other night when I first told him I was worried and he's been blowing hot and cold ever since I mentioned it. One minute he's saying I need to sort something out, the next minute he's saying I'm worrying about nothing and got his hands all over me again and I'm such a damn idiot that I don't tell him no. Although if I'm right, and I'm pretty sure I am, then it's too late for that to make any difference now anyways, so I figure that I might as well go with it and keep him happy.

I'm well aware that there's only one person who's gonna help me fix this and know what the hell I gotta to do to make things right. I know Curly would help me quick enough, only all he's ever wanted - long as I can remember anyways - is to be Tim, so why would I ask the imitation when I got the real thing to help me out? Curly means well but he ain't all that much older than me and I'm pretty sure he won't have the first clue what to do about this either. Whereas Tim's been fixing things for me and Curly for as long as I can remember and even though he bugs the hell out of me ninety percent of the time these days, he's still near enough the only person around that I trust completely.

When we was little he'd fix my dolls whenever Curly used to break 'em or clean up my knees after I fell over and I guess he must have been lifting things even back then because he somehow always managed to have a bar of my favourite candy there to try to stop me crying. Then when we got older and things were getting worse at home it was always him who took the brunt of Ma and Harry shouting and throwing and hitting. Despite what my grades might suggest I ain't stupid, I know he took it so me and Curly didn't have to.

People think Tim don't give a fuck about anyone but himself, but that ain't true, 'cause if he didn't care about the two of us then he could have left years before he did and just taken care of himself, instead of taking the beatings and the fights from Harry on top of all that grief from Ma telling him he's worthless just like our daddy was and trying to blame him for everything that is wrong in our family.

So it makes me feel even more lousy that I got to go tell him that I been doing all the things he's been telling me not to, that I promised him I wouldn't do. I know for sure he ain't gonna like it, 'cause for years he's been telling me that I'm better than all this shit and how important it is to finish school and not be easy, not let guys take advantage of me. Except I guess it ain't exactly taking advantage of me when I was wanting to do it just as much as Ryan did and I been chasing around after him as much as he's after me.

It seemed real cool that night at the party when he first made a move on me, made me feel that I was the only girl there worth looking at, told me I was beautiful. The girls were always telling me I was pretty only it ain't the same as when a hot guy tells it to you, especially one like him, someone older and so much cooler, not just one of them jerks from school like Bryon or Ponyboy or whoever.

Suddenly there's someone saying my name, pushing my shoulder and it's Jenny trying to get my attention because the class is over. She knows there's something wrong 'cause I'm usually first out the door. And them soc bitches are laughing at me 'cause I'm still sitting at my desk so I flip them off, tell them to fuck off and they soon shut up because they know not to mess with me. If I didn't have so much to worry about I'd laugh at how terrified they look and maybe give them a piece of my mind. As we head out the building Jenny turns to me.

"You gonna come hang round down the ribbon? Might go in the bowling alley, see who's around."

"Nah, I got things to do," I reply, trying to sound cool and live up to my reputation as hard as nails Angela Shepard who don't get upset by nothing, while I pretend I don't hear her and Marie giggle a little.

"Why, you seeing your boyfriend _again_ then? Got a hot date?"

I realise right here and now that Marie Jenkins is a shit stirring little bitch, making it sound like she thinks I'm some cheap slut and like she ain't never been with a guy herself, which is a joke as she's had more guys than me. Only if she gets called on it, if I make a big deal and challenge her over her attitude, she'll make out like she thinks it's real cool I gotta boyfriend three years older than me. Hell, she's probably just jealous anyways.

"Nah, I've gotta go see my brother first, so maybe I'll come meet you later," I answer, deliberately vague while I'm staring at her 'til she looks away uncomfortably. I push some gum into my mouth and cross the street away from the pair of them once we reach the street corner, hoping I don't look as terrified as I'm feeling at the prospect of what Tim's gonna say when I tell him the mess I'm in.

xxxxxxx

I'm a block and a half away from Tim's place when I nearly chicken out and just head home instead. Only Ma'll be there and I got no wish to share this with her, 'cause she'll only tell Harry and he don't need no more excuses to be yelling at me. Instead I stop in the park, it's the same place Tim used to bring me when I was little, when Ma used to send us out the house. It's quiet here today though and I just sit there, glad it's empty. I don't know what the time is, I only know we left school at three then had stood chatting outside for what felt like ages. Then I'd walked real slow and stopped in the drugstore to read the magazines until the assistant realised what I was doing. So I figure that it usually takes me an hour to walk home when I go the long way past the store. And its Friday so sometimes Tim finishes work a little early but although I still don't think there'll be anyone home just yet I must have been sitting there for close on thirty minutes now and I'm getting cold so I make myself carry on down the street.

I can't deny feeling a tiny bit relieved that his car ain't on the drive yet. There's someone home though, the window is open a little and I can hear the radio. Guess it's his girl who's back from work already. Me and her ain't exactly friends, but she ain't bad either. I wouldn't say it to Tim but it's good he's got her, cause otherwise he'd probably be back in jail by now and even though it's crap that he don't live at home no more I'd rather he was two blocks away with her where I can at least come visit rather than two hours drive away back in McAlester.

She opens the door with a smile on her face. She's always fucking smiling at me and telling me I'm welcome there any time when I come round and sometimes I wonder if she's ever had a really crappy day in her life because no one should be that happy all the time, especially if they gotta live with Tim. Only then that makes me feel guilty as I remember her daddy died and that she had that loser before Tim who treated her like shit. My brother treats her well enough though, and it's obvious even to me that she's good for him so although we ain't never gonna be friends I try to be polite, especially 'cause I know he'll be pissed enough with what I've got to tell him without me upsetting her too.

"Hi, is Tim home?" I find myself asking, even though it's obvious he ain't.

"Should be back any minute, you want to wait?"

Looking around I suddenly got no wish to be stuck inside. "Okay, can I wait out back?"

"Sure." She looks at me, concerned, but don't ask nothing else and for that I'm grateful.

There's an old bench seat outside the back door and I sit down, picking at my finger nails and counting the seconds in my head, hoping he gets here soon before I lose my nerve. About five minutes later she reappears, sitting next to me.

"Here, I brought you this," she says, handing me a soda and looking at me like she's genuinely interested in why I'm there and for a couple of seconds it makes me feel like a real cow for all the shitty things I ever said about her. "You okay?"

"Just want to talk to Tim," I mutter, knowing I sound like an ungrateful bitch and she's only trying to help. I can't help but think about how much time Curly spends over here with them. How he says she helps him with his school work without making a big deal out of it, because Tim's told him he ain't dropping out and he ain't gonna be allowed to repeat the year a second time so he needs all the help he can get after all the time he's missed when he's been in the reformatory or just through sloping off. But on the other hand she ain't really family and if I can't even tell my own mother what's going on then I sure as hell ain't telling her.

"No problem, just wanted you to know I'm here if you need me." She walks away before I can answer, before I can make some smart comment back at her, and really it's quite nice to think she might actually give a damn. Especially as Tim's most likely gonna lose it big time.

We met at that house party back in September and Ryan made all the effort, getting me drinks and telling me how good I looked, how he liked my hair and my clothes and that I was the best looking girl in the place. It's been a hell of a lot less bother going out since I know Tim's gonna be off making nice at home with his girl rather than bawling me out when he catches me in a bar, and it was fun to get some attention from a real man for a change.

Curly was there that first night, saw us kissing and where Ryan had his hands. Embarrassingly, Curly had decided to act like he was concerned about me and warned Ryan off before he dragged me to one side and told me straight up in front of my friends that I was an idiot, that I should stay away and that Tim would kill me if he found out who I was with, that I'd been fooling around with one of his sort-of-friends. Course, that only made me want Ryan even more. So I did what I did best and persuaded my brother that there wasn't nothing going on. And I guess it was the same for Ryan, that he liked the challenge of getting with me, 'cause later that night when Curly was busy someplace with Debbie Turner, he'd talked me into going for a drive with him, and I guess you can figure out the rest without me spelling it out to you.

The sound of Tim's car stopping out front brings me back down to earth with a bump. I hear the door bang shut, his footsteps in the hall and their voices as they speak. It isn't long before he appears beside me and I can see from the look on his face he has guessed I wasn't just there for a social call.

"Angel," he says, standing in the doorway. "To what do I owe this honour?"

"Just need to speak to you," I mumble, annoyed with myself for sounding so apologetic, so pathetic.

"Yeah? So what do you need to say?" He asks, sitting next to me.

Looking down at my hands again, it's a struggle to find the words and it seems like an eternity before I say anything and I just wish I could get on with it. Seems from his expression that Tim feels the same although I'm pretty sure that he'll be wishing I ain't said nothing soon enough.

"I think I'm in trouble."

"Why? What happened? You in trouble at school? Someone hurt you? Threatened you?"

He looks real mad as he runs through questions, and it's obvious he's trying to keep calm.

I swing my feet a little, like I used to when I was a kid, and then I tell him, and from the look on his face when I finally get the words out I might just as well have slapped him. "I...I think I'm... You know..."

"No, I don't know, so you're gonna have to just say it."

"I think I'm gonna have a baby."

"What the fuck? How?"

"Well, you know." My cheeks are burning and right now I wish I was somewhere, anywhere, else.

"Jesus, Ange, that ain't what I'm asking and you know it. You're just a fucking kid."

"I'm sixteen."

"Sixteen, still in school. How in hell are you that stupid?"

"School's shit. And you had girls when you was in high school, and _she_ was still in school when you were first chasing about after _her._" My tone is defensive as I jerk my head towards the house, although pretty soon I regret my words as its obvious I've only made him more angry.

"Damn it, Angela, we ain't here talking about me, because you know what? I had the good sense to take precautions not to end up in this kind of mess." He stands up, then instantly sits back down. It's plain it's messing with his head and making him uncomfortable having to talk about this with me. "Life's shit at the best of times round here, and it's even more shit if you ain't got no hope of getting anything better. But I guess it's too late for us to be having that conversation because you don't never listen to a word I say to you."

Tim's on his feet again now and this time he walks away across the yard and it's obvious he's trying real hard not to shout at me and that kind of makes me feel worse. At least if he was then I could yell and curse right back at him. But the look of utter disappointment on his face when he turns back round to look at me again is ten times worse than him yelling ever could be.

"You're sure?"

"Yeah."

"So what you want me to do about it?" he asks, the fact he's suddenly so composed and back to business takes me by surprise so all I can do is shrug.

"Jesus, Angela, this ain't a fucking game."

"Yeah, I know."

"You told Ma?"

I shake my head.

"Anyone else know?"

I nod.

"Who else?"

I swallow, the words sticking in my mouth. "My boyfriend."

Its a bit of a stretch to call him my boyfriend, being as all we do is fool around in his car, or at Bucks, or at his place if there ain't no one else home. But like Ryan said, my brothers wouldn't let us date anyways so it's the only way we can be together, and every time we are together he tells me he loves being with me. So I call him my boyfriend because it's bad enough having to tell Tim I'm in this mess without making myself sound even more of a cheap broad in the process.

"Who is this guy and what's he got to say about it?"

"He said that I'm probably worrying about nothing. But he still wants to see me so it ain't like he a run out on me is it?"

"So what you looking to do about it?"

"What you mean?" Because really, I was hoping he'd tell me what to do, not make me choose myself.

"Well, seems you got three options. You get rid of it. You go live in a home for unmarried mothers and have the kid then put it up to be adopted. Or you get married."

Oh god. Those options, my practical brother saying it all like that. I'd thought of the first two but hadn't even considered the last. Then it struck me that if anyone could make it happen for me it was Tim. Maybe it wasn't exactly perfect but no one's life is like the movies, at least not round here. Lots of people got married young. Plus it would get me away from high school, and home. Away from Ma and Harry going at it every day.

Before I could stop myself I realise I've said it out loud, "Get married, I want to get married."

"Who is he?"

"What you gonna do to him?"

"Who is it, Angela?"

"Promise me you won't hurt him?" I ask, knowing that's probably the most ridiculous thing I have said to Tim all afternoon.

"Just answer the damned question, Angela," he sighs, running his hand through his hair. "'Cause how the hell do you expect me to sort this for you and make this lowlife do the right thing by you if I got no clue who it is you been screwing around with?"

I ain't never seen Tim look as furious as he does next though, when I tell him who I'd been with.

"Ryan. I've been seeing Ryan Lang."


	2. Chapter 2

It's seven in the evening now, two hours since I told Tim, and the pair of us are in his car, driving across town. I'm feeling a little queasy and half of my brain is wondering if it's because of my predicament as Ma would call it, or just because I'm a little scared what Tim's gonna do when he comes face to face with Ryan. But it's too late to do anything about that now because we're parking outside his house and Tim's already half way up the path. So by the time I'm stepping through the gate he's knocking on the front door, loud and impatient.

"Tim." Ryan's eyes flit between Tim and me, then back to my brother,as he pulls the door open and sees us both on the step, and I see the flicker of fear on his face before he composes himself again. He should be scared too. Tim may well be what his parole officer labels as 'reformed' but he's still the toughest person I've ever met and I'd say that even if he wasn't my brother. He ain't someone you want to make angry. You just have to look at him to know he's not someone to mess with unless you got some kind of death wish, especially if he's in the kind of mood my news had put him in.

"Three of us need to talk."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, so you either ask us in, or we do it here on the street, let all the neighbours know what a lowlife scumbag you are."

"Doubt you'd want to do that, being as that'd just confirm to them how easy your sister really is." And I can't pretend it don't hurt to see the smirk on Ryan's face when he says it, even if I try to convince myself he's only saying it so he don't look weak in front of Tim.

Tim don't say nothing yet, and before Ryan realises what's going on my brother's got him round the throat pinned back against the wall and when Tim finally does speak it even scares me 'cause I ain't never heard him sound like this before.

"You say one more bad thing about her and it will be my great pleasure to show you exactly what I think about you having been anywhere near my sister," his voice is low and he don't rush the words but it only makes them sound harder, colder. It's a few seconds later before he relaxes his hold on Ryan a little as he continues to speak, "Only we got things that need fixing and as you got her in this mess then you sure as hell are gonna get her out of it."

"You sure it's my problem?" Ryan adds, sneering a little as he tries to match Tim's tone, only I guess he soon regrets it when Tim sucker punches him in the face and the blood starts pouring from his nose.

"I'm gonna pretend that you didn't say that. Get the hell inside and let's get this sorted."

Ten minutes later we're sat at the kitchen table. Ryan's nose has finally stopped bleeding and I'm sat beside him, while Tim's still on his feet, leaning back against the counter as he stares at the pair of us and it's like being in some freakish nightmare version of the head teacher's office as he glares over at us disapprovingly in between asking Ryan a whole load of questions. I'm kind of surprised at how Tim talks down to Ryan because I always thought they were friends, only I suppose that ain't exactly the case no more, and I get the feeling that it ain't just because of this business with me either. There's no one else in the house and I know there ain't gonna be, because his folks are at his grandma's and before all this we were planning on spending the night there together, or at least some of it, so I guess Tim will keep talking at him 'til things get settled one way or another.

"So what you aiming to do about the mess you've got my sister in?" Tim demands, "You been seeing other girls, or just her?"

"Just her."

Its unsettling the way they talk, like I'm not actually sat right there in the room in front of them, but I know better than to interrupt. Tim said he'd handle it so I know I just gotta do what he's told me, to sit there and keep my mouth shut unless he asks me anything. So I listen, to their voices and to the clock ticking behind Tim as I watch the minutes slide by.

"Well guess that's something. You actually like her? Wanna keep seeing her?"

Ryan takes a sideways look at me, his knee touches mine under the table and I smile a tiny bit. "Yeah, I like her."

"She's sixteen, still in school."

"So? Even you must know she wasn't exactly no innocent before we hooked up, and it's only a couple years, ain't no big deal."

"No big deal? Since when is having a kid no big deal?"

"That ain't what I meant."

"So what you planning to do about it?"

"What you want me to do?" Ryan asks, finally looking at me properly, and it takes me by surprise that he's asking me, not Tim.

"We could get married," I offer, not able to look at either him or my brother, and it strikes me how ridiculous I sound, like some stupid kid looking for a happy ending. So when he finally answers I'm stunned.

"Yeah, okay."

I'm shocked by his answer and how easy it seems to be to get what I want out of this all. Maybe he really does like me. Or maybe he's just real scared of what Tim will do to him if he says no. But whatever the reason, maybe I shouldn't really be all that surprised he's agreed, being as generally things work out the way Tim says.

xxxxxx

It's twelve days since I went to see Tim, and at just after eleven o'clock on a wet Wednesday morning I'm officially no longer Angela Shepard, I'm Mrs Lang, and that just sounds weird, 'cause it sounds like I'm talking about his mother.

I'm standing next to Ryan, he's wearing a suit and the bruises are nearly gone from his face now. I'm wearing a borrowed dress, it's baby blue, a little short, but it kind of looks good on me. Tim's girl sorted it for me to borrow from her friend Sylvia, because I ain't got nothing real smart of my own and none of her things would have fitted me. But Sylvia's almost as tall as me and we're near enough the same size. It ain't a proper wedding dress, but it's prettier than anything I've got and knowing I look nice makes me feel a little bit special even though there ain't hardly anyone here to see me.

Tim's here at the courthouse, although I get the feeling he only came to make sure Ryan went through with it, as he stands there watching but not smiling, next to Curly and Ma.

Ma's been spending every waking minute trying to make me feel bad ever since Tim took me back there and made me tell her everything last weekend. Although I guess she must have forgotten that she ain't exactly no better 'cause I seen the marriage certificate in the box under her bed, and her and the old man didn't get married 'til barely a couple months before Tim was born.

Ryan's Ma and Pa are there too. His old man don't seem that keen on me, just seems to stare at me whenever we've been there in the house, like he thinks I'm gonna steal stuff or something. But his Ma's been friendly enough since I seen the doctor last Monday and they said it's likely I got it right, and they're letting us live there with them for now, 'til we get sorted with someplace of our own, which is a relief. I reckon Ryan would have left the state if we'd ended up staying at my Ma's place and there ain't no way on this earth that Tim would have had us live with him.

There ain't gonna be no party or nothing. Tim leaving to go back to work already, Curly's driving Ma home and Ryan's parents are going back to their place. So we're across the street in the diner having our first meal as husband and wife. He's got some cheeseburger, the full works, but I just got a 7-up and fries, and I can't even really stomach them right now. It sure ain't romantic but I tell myself that at least it's better than being lectured at by nuns in some girls home, and I think to myself that maybe I can try to do a better job at this family thing than Ma ever did.

xxxxxx

It hasn't even been two weeks yet and already I've come to the conclusion that married life ain't all it's cracked up to be.

I think I got it wrong when I said his old man don't like me, because sometimes it feels like he likes me a bit too much. Like when he's sat there in the evening after he gets home from work watching me doing the dishes or tidying the kitchen, or else finding some excuse to squeeze past me which always involves him ending up with his hand on my ass. He don't do it when Ryan or his Ma are around though, and it's starting to creep me out a little, but there ain't no point saying nothing, because really, who the hell is gonna believe me?

Ryan's fun and good-looking and when he's home we mostly get along okay and I guess it's normal for couples to fight some, if what I seen at home is anything to go by anyways. But the trouble is he ain't never hardly home. Instead I seem to spend my days doing laundry or cooking or cleaning now I dropped out of school while he goes and works with his old man. Or in the evenings he's out doing whatever the hell business it is he's mixed up in, and he don't hardly ever take me out with him, even though there ain't no reason for us not to do stuff together now we're married and all. I don't mind that I'm doing the chores, 'cause they're letting us live there, and I'm kind of used to doing it anyways, used to looking after myself, being as Ma ain't done nothing like that at home for years. Only it's frustrating because Ryan don't seem all that motivated to start to look for a place of our own and when I try to talk to him about it he just snaps at me, tells me I don't understand how busy he is, and that he don't want to come home to me nagging him every damn night of the week. But when I snap back at him and tell him maybe I made a mistake and perhaps he'd prefer it if I left, then he's all apologies, kissing me and telling me he's sorry and he loves me and he will sort it out only I gotta give him time, and before long we end up in bed again.

But I still don't get no proper answers to my questions. So I can only do what he asks and wait. I give him more time because, honestly, I don't want to have to go back to Tim and tell him I made another giant mistake, especially not so soon, and it ain't like it's just me I got to think about now. I'll do whatever the hell I have to, to make sure my baby has a real family.

xxxxxx

Two weeks and three days. Who knew that my marriage wouldn't even last three weeks?

I been feeling real unwell for the last couple of days, so that's why I'm here, curled up in a ball with the covers over my head and not wanting to see anyone, in the spare room at Tim's place. Because now I know for sure I ain't gonna be a mother anytime soon after all, only when I told Ryan this morning he just didn't seem to give a damn either way, didn't even ask me how I was feeling or if I was okay, just carried on doing what he was doing like I was talking about the weather or something. So I just grabbed a couple of things and ran out the door.

It's four hours now since I made it back to Tim's place. Three and a half hours after he arrived back home and found me there. I thought he would be home being as it's Saturday, but I guess he was working some extra this morning as the house was all locked up when I got here.

Tim hadn't known what to say to me when I'd stood there crying and talking nonsense in front of him after he found me sitting on the front step. Instead he just hugged me, asked me when I'd last slept before making me come lie down. I suppose I must have dozed a little because when I wake up there's a glass of water, some Aspirins and a candy bar on the dresser next to me, and for a couple of seconds I smile before I remember why I'm there.

The door is open a little and I guess he thinks I'm sleeping because I can hear him talking about me and explaining what's happened and she's being real good about me being there. I hear the concern in Tim's voice as he asks her all sorts of questions, like he thinks she's got all the answers and it's weird, almost frightening, hearing him like that 'cause I always just assumed he had the answer to everything.

"You think she'll be okay?"

"Yeah, but you got to give her some time, don't be too hard on her. Is she going to go back to him?"

"Hope not. He sure as hell don't deserve her if he can't look after her properly." And I'm inclined to agree with him. Ryan didn't do nothing to make me feel any better these past few days since I first starting feeling unwell, nothing to help, just wasn't interested. "Will you speak to her later, see if there's anything she needs, you know? I don't know, maybe she might want to talk to a girl, and Lord knows she can't expect any help from Ma."

"Yeah, course," she says and I know I'll try my best to open up a little to her 'cause Tim wants her to help me and I don't want to disappoint him again.

"Maybe I should have told her no, not let her marry him, sorted it some other way. I never really trusted Lang in all the years I known him." It surprises me how tired he sounds when he says this, how worn down he seems.

"Tim, it ain't your fault, you done what you thought was best by her, it was what she wanted too, and it's not all your responsibility, you can't always make people do the right thing."

"You think it's for the best? Even though it's so fucking shit for her right now?" My brother asks.

There's a pause before she speaks, so I guess she's thinking about it. "Maybe. Maybe it's best that it happened like this and for her to find out he's a jerk now rather than have him run out on her later and leave her struggling on her own to raise a kid. Guess it gives her a second chance. Whatever happens though at least she knows she's got family to turn to and that someone gives a damn what happens to her."

I frown for a minute, thinking that she don't have a clue how fucked up things are in our family, that she maybe has no idea how bad things really are with our Ma, who just seems to believe we're there to make her life worse. But then I realise she don't mean Ma, she means Tim. Because at least me and Curly been lucky enough to have him there looking out for us, whereas he ain't never had no one else to do that for him. Hell, he even tries to take care of Ma too despite the way she treats him - I know he still helps her out when Harry's pissed away all his wages in some bar. He don't give Ma the cash, guess he's worried she'll just give it to Harry, but near enough every time he calls by Tim takes some bill or other from the house and pays it off when he's next in town or else he gives me or Curly money for buying food, yet all the time Ma's still bitching at him over nothing because whatever he does is never gonna be good enough for her. I don't know, maybe now is the time I ought to sort myself out and change some before I end up making exactly the same bad decisions in life as my mother did.

Slipping out from under the covers I pull on my clothes and quietly cross the hall. They're stood by the front door now and Tim is kissing her goodbye as he reminds her to call in at the pharmacy, and to not forget to pick up more Aspirins, and not to be gone too long, while she smiles and hugs him real quick before she takes his car keys from his hand and ducks out the front door. Seeing them together I wonder if maybe they're what it should be like, not like me and Ryan or Ma and Harry with all the shouting and fighting and bitching at each other.

I guess people probably think it's weird that out of all of us Tim might actually be good at this, that someone like Tim Shepard can hold down a job and a relationship or care about someone other than himself. But maybe it's not that strange if you really think about it, because I guess he's always wanted more out of life than what we had at home and he's always been determined enough, focused enough, to get what he wants.

Crossing the room, he flicks on the television before sitting on the sofa. There's some sports on but he don't really seem like he's watching. I move a little, and Tim looks around as the floorboards creak beneath my feet and he smiles at me.

"Hey, kid, you wanna come join me?"

He pats the sofa next to him and I nod, curling into his side, like I did all them years ago when I was little, before he was always out and before I started thinking it was dumb wanting to spend any of my time with my brother, as he drops his arm around me.

"You sleep some?"

I nod, knowing now what I want to say to him, "I'm sorry, really I am, Tim." My voice is whispery.

"Ain't your fault he's a fucking asshole," he mutters, and we sit there in silence for a time, while I look at him from the corner of my eye and I try to find the right words.

"Will you, can you help me? I know I screwed up bad but I'll go back to school. I'll go back and live with Ma, only just don't make me go back to him." I ain't exactly looking forward to all the gossiping and whispering there's gonna be about me in school, but I've always been pretty good at pretending shit like that don't bother me and I know I'll be able to handle it, put on that front and act exactly like they'll all expect me to, swearing and laughing like it's all a big joke, not let on to anyone there how I really feel about it all. And even going back to live with Ma has got to be better than being stuck with someone who don't really love me.

Tim don't say nothing, just sits looking at me, like he don't know what to say, and I can't take the quiet no more.

"Don't send me back there, please?"

He looks at me, sighs a little, before he answers, "Yeah, I'll help you, Angela. I've never let you down yet have I?"

* * *

A/N: Well, thank you so much to anyone who's read to the end. I hope you enjoyed it, it's been interesting trying to write this, and I hope it's a believable interpretation of the events? As always I'd love to know your opinions on whether it worked or not :)


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